Friday night Tate Modern

Last week on Friday we eschewed our normal ‘rush-home-to-watch-TV-and-work/study’ plan and instead went out to the late night opening of the Tate Modern.

Now that is living the London-life. I have no doubt that soon we’ll be out partying with Twiggy and Princess Margaret.

We started by St. Paul’s, went to a burger joint called Porky’s where SY had ribs with a Dr. Pepper sauce and I had the Porky burger with a ‘Porkslap’ beer. Johnny Cash played throughout. Then we did the Tate, which was good but is never as good as the Tate traveling exhibition we saw on our first date many moons ago in the Mori Art Museum in Roppongi, Tokyo.

Still, I harvested a few writing ideas from the weirder bits of art, and it was fun.

The evening ended in the absolutely dead Tate cafe. It was us two and the girl behind the counter doing her sweeping. It felt a bit like the tinny, empty Automat in Dark City (where Rufus Sewell left his wallet, in case you’ve forgotten).

Me in full work regalia in front of St. Paul’s.

Tate across the Millennium Bridge.

Porkslap beer. It did not taste particularly porky. It was very fruity actually.

This was a tasty Porky burger.

St. Paul’s and London in general across the river from 4th floor of Tate Modern at night.